mainly nonwriting days
Afternoon reading: Rubicon, Hillel the Elder, Alexander the Great.
Morning notes: Rubicon, Hillel the Elder.
A couple of (mainly) nonwriting days. Yesterday I became embroiled in more furniture-assembly when a cubbyhole shelving unit and an upright chest of drawers arrived from Ikea. Kimmie and I labored in the windowless basement box where her sewing-room will be when Robin returns home to live. Kimmie had painted the walls with the powder-blue paint we used in the powder room upstairs; it looks good with the thick rose-colored carpet.
Today I was out at Mom's place in Deep Cove, updating the estate workbook with the accumulated bills and bank statements of the past couple of months. She was still in the throes of a deep cough following a weeks-long case of cold and bronchitis--uncharacteristic for her, who is so health-conscious. She treated me to lunch at Honey's Donuts in the Cove, a handful of mismatched tables run by a clutch of Latinas who make excellent donuts and serve very good food. I had the special: tuna-melt on their homemade bread and a cup of split-pea soup. Mom and I lapsed into deep conversation as the place emptied of customers and an elderly waitress chased a 3-year-old boy around the room. Outside the air was bright and wet and quiet.
Next up: teatime again. Reading. Kimmie has just got home, and gone out again to Michael's, the craft store, to buy heart-shaped cake pans for the celebratory cake she's planning for her sister Susie's 50th wedding anniversary. Later Trevor will be by to help move the sewing machine and serger down from Robin's room to the newly cleared sewing-room.
My book? Wading through caramel.
Morning notes: Rubicon, Hillel the Elder.
A couple of (mainly) nonwriting days. Yesterday I became embroiled in more furniture-assembly when a cubbyhole shelving unit and an upright chest of drawers arrived from Ikea. Kimmie and I labored in the windowless basement box where her sewing-room will be when Robin returns home to live. Kimmie had painted the walls with the powder-blue paint we used in the powder room upstairs; it looks good with the thick rose-colored carpet.
Today I was out at Mom's place in Deep Cove, updating the estate workbook with the accumulated bills and bank statements of the past couple of months. She was still in the throes of a deep cough following a weeks-long case of cold and bronchitis--uncharacteristic for her, who is so health-conscious. She treated me to lunch at Honey's Donuts in the Cove, a handful of mismatched tables run by a clutch of Latinas who make excellent donuts and serve very good food. I had the special: tuna-melt on their homemade bread and a cup of split-pea soup. Mom and I lapsed into deep conversation as the place emptied of customers and an elderly waitress chased a 3-year-old boy around the room. Outside the air was bright and wet and quiet.
Next up: teatime again. Reading. Kimmie has just got home, and gone out again to Michael's, the craft store, to buy heart-shaped cake pans for the celebratory cake she's planning for her sister Susie's 50th wedding anniversary. Later Trevor will be by to help move the sewing machine and serger down from Robin's room to the newly cleared sewing-room.
My book? Wading through caramel.
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4:26 PM
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